


Filling A Void With Earth

by gala_apples



Series: There Are No Extra Pieces [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Kitsune, Orgy, Possession, Season/Series 03, references to canonical heterosexual pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-02-12 00:42:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2089233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now that everyone has consented to the 'orgy to save Stiles' life' plan, it needs to be actually implemented.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Filling A Void With Earth

**Author's Note:**

> Written for day two of twfemslashfest: kink/pwp.

“Your clothes are awful. You’d look better naked.”

What Lydia’s saying is true. Allison’s not sure if Malia’s ridiculously baggy jeans and jacket over a hoodie are actually from Derek’s closet because he didn’t feel like going shopping for her, or if Malia prefers swimming in yards of denim. Either way, it’s not flattering. What Lydia’s saying is also more mean spirited than seductive. Or at least that’s how it comes off in Allison’s book, and Kira’s wince verifies that opinion. If someone Allison was about to sleep with said that to her, she’d be having second thoughts. Lucky for them all, Malia takes the statement at face value. She wastes no time, just strips. 

Allison stands back as Malia and Lydia fall onto the bed. Stands back then after a second sinks to the floor to sit comfortably. She doesn’t need to join them immediately, it’s probably better for this sort of thing if it builds in layers. Besides, it’s not like there’s a lot of room. Lydia has a queen bed topped with luxury sheets Allison is positive aren’t from Walmart, and she and Malia are using every inch of it. They’re rolling all over the bed, somewhere between taking turns being on top and fighting for dominance. Allison’s not sure who she’d put money on, but she’s not worried about it. They both look to be enjoying the struggle immensely. 

Allison could be surprised at the way Lydia’s perfect princess image falls apart when she’s turned on, except for how she’s not. She got her first clues of it ages ago. You don’t have a list of places in BHHS you _haven’t_ fooled around in yet if you’re not a wildcat with your pants off. Kira might be startled though. She’s not deeply woven into their group yet, at least not the not-crisis-mode versions of themselves, she hasn’t seen Lydia drag Aiden into the art room.

She looks over to see how Kira’s taking the scintillating show in front of them. Excellently, apparently, is Allison’s answer. Kira’s in a bra and underwear and fishnets. In the time that Allison’s been watching her best friend and random ally go at it, Kira’s shed herself of her first layer before resettling on the floor.

It’s not like porn. The fishnets are black to match the abandoned outfit, her panties have tiny Captain America shields printed, and her bra is white. There’s not a bow or scrap of lace or sheer panel in sight. But white and novelty print and black is more sincere. In the future, given the choice, Allison would rather this.

“I did say you didn’t have to, right? That you could just focus on calling a cousin?”

Kira makes a face. “I haven’t exactly embraced my nature yet, so maybe don’t call the thing about to possess one of you that?”

“Sorry. It gets easier though. I went from ‘what the fuck’s a hunter’ to bamfing it out. You will too.”

Kira makes a doubting face, and Allison can’t stop herself. She gets up onto her knees and uses her core strength to keep her balance and keep her hands off the floor while leaning over Kira. Kira’s badass, as far as Allison’s seen, and she doesn’t deserve self-doubt. Better to kiss it away. Kira tastes like cinnamon gum, which would explain the discarded tissue on top of her pile of clothing.

“But seriously,” she resumes when they break. “Three experimental girls and a voyeur? I think it’ll be enough. You can just concentrate on calling it. You don’t have to join, I know you like Scott.”

“Yeah, I do. And we’ve had one date. Two, if you count the time we built a sword and heard about one of the no doubt dozens of guys my mom’s loved, in between her telling me how foxes and wolves don’t mesh.”

“Hunter-werewolf, also bad.” Allison sympathises.

“Point is, we haven’t even kissed. Getting my girl on isn’t cheating if there’s nothing to cheat on.”

Allison could argue. She knows how deep Scott falls. But they’re all on shaky ethical ground. There’s not one girl in this room without a will-they-won’t-they partial relationship. Excluding Kira for it is stupid and pointless.

Allison crawls on top of Kira. Her back isn’t against the floor yet, but she’s leaning on her forearms by the time Allison is settled. “How’s this for girl on?”

“Wow. Well, I didn’t actually mean literally? But I like it?” 

Kira’s admission is punctuated by Malia’s moan. 

“Wanna catch up?” Allison asks with a tilt of her chin towards the two other members of their party. She doesn’t actually look over at them, unwilling to break eye contact with Kira, but given the situation Kira’s not going to be mistaking her intent.

Kira moves her left arm so it’s perpendicular to the position it was just in, and rebraces herself on only it. Allison’s got a few ideas about what Kira can do with her new free hand. Before she can officially suggest any of them, Kira puts her hand in the gap between Allison’s shirt and stomach and pushes up, dragging the shirt with it.

For a girl who’s generally stammery and shy, she’s bold in going straight for her nipple. Allison’s are sensitive, and they’ve been peaked since she started watching Malia pin down Lydia only to be rolled over. Kira’s not too gentle thumb makes her gasp and want more.

“What did that?” Lydia asks.

It makes Allison smile, at least until Kira does it again. Of course Lydia’s asking, Lydia Martin does not guess, she analyses.

“Playing with her breasts. I was just trying foreplay, but I think she could maybe get off like this?”

“Interesting.”

But while Lydia is a plotter, Malia is obviously a doer. The next thing Allison knows, Malia is pressed up behind her, hand tightly cupped and searching for a nipple through two layers of fabric. Allison shivers when she gets it.

“Fun, but it would be better if you weren’t wearing a shirt.”

“Easily solved, don’t you think?” Lydia proposes.

Kira jacks Allison’s hem to her neck and Malia eases her arms through the sleeves. Allison feels the centre of attention, three sets of eyes on her. It’s no more than Lydia or Malia would have felt earlier, except it’s her, and it’s intense. 

By the time Kira’s coaxing her into orgasm Allison is feeling even more centre stage. She’s suddenly sure that feeling is a strong portion of why she’s so wet that Lydia could feel it through her panties, so hot that she’s burning from thighs to knees. It’s a kink she didn’t know she had; so different from standing in the shadows to aim the perfect shot, so similar to leading a group of fifteen men in taking out a feral Pack in Toulouse. Maybe Allison daydreams about everyone watching her get fucked, but everyone’s masturbatory dreams has them in the starring role, right? That’s the whole point of a fantasy. It’s a kink she’s not sure how to integrate into future sex, just knows she wants to.

Allison is still catching her breath when Lydia and Malia turn on Kira. Their dual intensity is just as hot on another person as it was on herself. If she didn’t already know they’re werecoyote and banshee she’d have reason to suspect succubi. And Kira’s making it known how much she agrees. Her normal awkward rambling has taken a decidedly filthy aspect.

For a minute Allison just pants air back into her lungs and listens to the fuck me harders and get inside mes like they’re her own personal porn soundtrack. But the longer it goes on, the more concerned she is. Kira’s not calling for the earth kitsune, and she’s the only one it’ll listen to. 

“Dirty talk is hot, but it’s more important you focus on the chikyu.”

“Oh god. Oh _god_ , right fucking there.”

“No. Kira, you need to focus on earth. Call to the chikyu.”

“Focus,” Lydia affirms, hand not pausing for a single second. Maia doesn’t say anything, mouth buried in Kira’s cunt.

A minute later finds Kira’s cursing like a sailor through her orgasm. Allison can tell the earth kitsune hasn’t shown a speck of interest, but they’re nowhere near done yet. Allison hasn’t even had anything inside her yet. She’s still wearing underwear, for fucksakes! Sex isn’t over until the G spot gets touched. Besides, Allison wants to taste Malia’s lips when her face is still covered in Kira. She rolls to get back on her knees and straddles Kira before she reaches out to pull Malia in.

It’s some time later, many orgasms later, countless moans later, that Allison feels it. It’s like suddenly being coated in iron. She’s stronger, giddily invulnerable, even, but there’s also a layer between her and the world. The feeling gets more intense

**strength**

_isolation_

and then there’s a sort of intangible tug and Allison’s not seeing Lydia’s bedroom anymore. She’s somewhere else; a sunroom crowded like a jungle with plants. And there’s a creature in front of her. It’s covered from head to tie in verdant moss, which pulses as the body below it loses and gains breasts, hips, and a dick in rapid cycles. Assuming this goes well, that Kira called a good chikyu and she won’t be possessed forever. Allison will have to write in the bestiary about each kitsune having a different mind form similar to their abilities. She can’t help but wonder how the ocean and river kitsunes differ.

“Most people who call me aren’t so persistent.”

Allison was expecting a sibilant voice. Before Stiles was lost to them he had plenty of time to explain what the nogitsune looked like and he was right about the fully covered skin. But it’s voice is nothing like the described eerie rattle. The chikyu’s voice is rich. Loamy, even.

“Most people who call you just want to have kinky tantric sex. Which, fun, but we _need_ you for more than that.”

“Yes, I know. Little baby sanda, not even one tail yet, needs a nice older cousin to take on the big bad kukan because the kaze has different priorities.”

“We’re supposed to understand why they want Stiles killed. I think even the Sheriff is prepared for it. But there are things they haven’t tried, and they refuse to listen.”

“Do not assume arrogance comes with age.”

Allison knows there’s a snarky comment about her own choices in there, and she won’t upset the chikyu by standing up for herself, but she’s not in the wrong here.

“I will help, but you know what it will cost you.”

Allison nods. No matter how fast the nogitsune pulls the chikyu out of her, her body will still be used against her own volition. She’ll face at least a few blows, not that that’s anything new. And there’s a chance that the kukan might kill the chikyu and the visual of Stiles murdering herself probably won’t be good for her ever creeping closer PTSD. But the alternative is letting Dad or Derek or Mrs Yukimura make their own moves, and Allison will not have that.

“I’ll finish this up, then I will begin.”

As Allison nods a second time, clumps of moss begin dropping off the kitsune. Bit by bit Allison sees her own skin, her own hair, her own features. It’s only when it’s fully clean, when Allison can see every nude inch of herself that the chikyu turns her back on her. She doesn’t disappear and leave Allison like she thought she would. Rather the chikyu crosses the room to start wandering one of the ferns.

After a few minutes, subjective time, Allison joins her. It’s the oddest thing. If Allison keeps moving she sees the sunroom and her replica. But if she stares at any one thing for too long, she sees beyond the mental landscape and out into the real world, where her body is sucking a bite onto Lydia’s ribcage. They must know she’s no longer herself, she never bit before.

Allison’s torn between observing and puttering. It’s not good for her mental health to not know what’s going on. Lack of knowledge is what drove all of this in the first place. But it’s no doubt also bad to feel so out of control. She’s not being violated, like Stiles, but it’s disturbing to not have any autonomy. So she vacillates between the various activities of the sunroom and watching Malia orgasm, Kira sheath her sword, Lydia drive them all to Derek’s, and hopes that the plan works. That her head of the Argent hierarchy skills haven’t failed her. Her own choices with sweeping consequences for others indeed.


End file.
